


latte days

by sepsner



Category: South Park
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, clyde being a dummy in love, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 10:03:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16490477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sepsner/pseuds/sepsner
Summary: Every day, Clyde writes a pickup line on Bebe's coffee cup. Every day, Bebe seems not to notice. Clyde can take a hint.





	latte days

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my multi-fic NaNo effort for this year! This may be edited once the month is over.

Monday. _Thinking about you a latte.  
_ Tuesday. _Bean mine.  
_ Wednesday. _You’re a hot-tea!  
_ Thursday. _I’m soy into you.  
_ Friday. __You mocha me crazy!  
  
Clyde wasn’t even sure why he wrote these pickup lines on the cups anymore. It wasn’t like he was giving them out to random girls - he wasn’t that stupid fifteen year old anymore. No, he gave these pickup lines to the same girl, every day. And Clyde would have stopped as soon as she said something, but she never did. Hell, she never reacted to the pickup lines. Did she even notice them on the cup?  
  
Her name was Bebe. Clyde knew her name because he did her order every morning. It was never the same, either, but he knew how she liked every one. She didn’t like whipped cream on coffee, but she did on hot chocolate. She ordered cold drinks from mid April to early August. Whenever she ordered a caramel latte, she would want extra syrup. Clyde no longer charged her for the extra syrup. She was beautiful, and she never noticed the pickup lines he wrote on her drinks. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise - at least Clyde would never get turned down this way.  
  
Come Saturday, Clyde didn’t write a pickup line on the cup.  
  
On Sundays, Clyde didn’t go to work. He didn’t know if Bebe still got coffee on Sundays - if she did, then it wasn’t from him. The thought of someone else making her coffee made him oddly jealous. They weren’t even dating. Hell, Bebe probably didn’t even know his name. And yet, Clyde was so jealous that someone else could be making her coffee. How pathetic was he?  
  
He stewed to himself for the day. Maybe he should have taken Bebe’s silence as a direct ‘no thanks’ to his flirtations. Idiot. Of course that was the case. If there was no yes, then it was a no.  
  
So, Clyde decided, on Monday, he wouldn’t write anything on her cup. He had to stop being so weird and obsessive and just get over her. And the best way to do that would be to just treat her like another customer. Unlearn her name. Unlearn her orders. Stop flirting.  
  
On Monday, she ordered a caramel latte.  
  
“Extra syrup is another 30 cents,” Clyde told her, writing her order down. “And the name is..?”  
  
Bebe seemed confused. “Um, Bebe.”  
  
“Okay. Move down to the end while I make it, thanks.”  
  
He gave her the cup with only ‘Bebe’ written on it. His heart sank into his stomach. This wasn’t what he wanted, but it’s what he knew he had to do. It sucked a lot, but Clyde could take a ‘no’.  
  
Then the next day came.  
  
Bebe stormed in like she had purpose. It was a change from her usual wandering, looking at mugs and syrups, fiddling on her phone. Today, she moved straight from the door to the counter, looking Clyde dead in the eyes.  
  
“Can-- can I help--”  
  
“I haven’t had my coffee yet,” Bebe snapped, “so I can’t think of a charming pickup line.”  
  
Clyde blinked. “What?”  
  
“Well? Java number I can call you at or something?”  
  
“I’m… sorry?”  
  
Bebe folded her arms, huffing. “It took me all night to think up these pickup lines, so you’d better appreciate them! Why did you stop writing them to me?”  
  
Clyde blinked again, the information not yet sinking in. “Wait, you saw them?”  
  
“Yes!” Bebe tucked her hair behind her ear and looked off to the side. “I just… I don’t get flirted at very much, you know? It’s never the way I want. It’s gross boys, every day, and the only real buzz I get is from…” Bebe blushed, looking at the floor. “Well, from your coffee.”  
  
It finally sunk in. “You like the flirts?”  
  
“I don’t like the flirts,” Bebe mumbled, nervously playing with her hair. “I like you.”  
  
Clyde’s smile widened slowly. “Why didn’t you say so?”  
  
“Why didn’t you ask for my number?” Bebe huffed, her face pink.  
  
“Alright,” Clyde hummed and leaned against the counter. “Java number I can call you at?”  
  
“You stole my line,” Bebe smirked. “Give me a pen and one of your little order card things.”  
  
She wrote down her number as Clyde got to work on her mocha. As Clyde handed her the cup (with “you roast my heart” written on it), Bebe gave him the card with her number on it.  
  
“Make sure you call me, Clyde.”  
  
“Of course I- wait, you know my name?” Clyde’s face lit up.  
  
“Of course I do,” Bebe laughed. “It’s on your nametag.”  
  
Nametag? Clyde touched his breast. Oh, yeah. He had a nametag. He laughed a little, embarrassed at his own stupidity. “I forgot.”  
  
“You’re so cute,” Bebe smiled and covered her mouth. Clyde wanted to move her hand and tell her not to do that again, since her smile was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Was that creepy? Probably.  
  
Instead, he just smiled like a goofball. “You’re beautiful.”  
  
He watched Bebe leave, calling a “see you tomorrow!” after her. As soon as his shift was over, he figured, Clyde would call her. Then maybe he didn’t have to communicate over cheesy pickup lines on Bebe’s coffee cups.


End file.
